A Little Weight Gain
by CTMsunday
Summary: Patrick is worried that their years of marriage and taken it's toll on his body


**_A/N: For Ali, Sarah, Beth, Ashley, Bee &amp; Hannah. I love you guys, I'm going to get sentimental internally but you mean the world to me. Don't ever, ever forget that. _**

Shifting slightly against the plumped up pillows behind him on their bed, Patrick whispered "Darling?"

"Hmm?" She mumbled from her place on his chest, her ear rested just above his heart, the gentle beating slowing down as his body gave way to tiredness.

It had been a long day, and both were enjoying the peace and quiet after Timothy had finally drifted off and Angela snuffled in her sleep along the hallway.

"Am I...I..."

"Are you what, Patrick?" She slowly raised her head to look him in the eye; his chin, in line with hers, slightly covered in fine hair that had grown during the day.

He sighed in the stillness of the room. Here he had the most beautiful, slim, healthy woman in his arms, yet he was worrying about his appearance. He knew she loved him, the vows and subsequent rings told him that, but he felt he needed an assurance. Assurance that she loved _him_ even with his faults.

"Patrick?" She put one arm on the mattress to support herself and the other she reached over and gently took his hand that had been laying motionless beside him. Their fingers interlinked perfectly. Someone could say this was through years of practice, but from the start Patrick and Shelagh knew that they had been made for each other.

"Do you think I'm... stodgy?" Patrick shyly caught her eye. He saw a flash of amusement, and then a seriousness take place on the features of her face.

"What's brought this on?" She questioned, her brow furrowing in the middle.

"You're not answering my question"

"I shouldn't have to! You're the doctor Patrick" She didn't mean to answer sharply, but having spent all day with a fussy toddler who insisted on holding every item within her grasp, Shelagh had begun to feel the strain of being a housewife and mother of two.

Shelagh sat up and moved back over to her side of the bed, tucking herself back under the duvet which she tucked tightly under her chin. Patrick started at her for a moment. This woman had chosen to be with him, she had always said that her love for him persuaded her to take the final steps to leave the convent. Once she became Shelagh Mannion again, any man would be proud to have her on their arms. But Shelagh chose him.

_Why? _He asked himself.

He was a widower, nearing middle aged and towed along a growing young man. And now after several years of marriage, age and comfort had taken over slightly. His belly a tad bigger than before the wedding and the grey strands in his hair had grown wider. The years of well home cooked meals, and abundance of puddings available had certainly had an effect on his body. But only when his wife laid in his arms, clad in his pajama top, did he realize how much smaller she was than him. She was always shorter than him, yes, but Shelagh had spent years cycling the length of Poplar several times a day and her toned legs and slim figure had shown for it.

Shelagh caught his eyes, even whilst clothed in a habit, she used them as a method of communication. A way of showing him all her deep emotions without ever having to say a word, or touch him. Yet now, because she could, she reached out and held him around the waist, drawing his body closer until her chest touched his. Their breaths synchronized, but the tension in him remained.

"Patrick.." She breathed, her hands tiptoeing toward his ribcage, "You are perfect, you are my husband, the father to our children. I wouldn't have you any other way." When her hands made their way towards the side of his belly, he pulled away and rolled onto his back.

"My love" His eyes concentrated on the swirling lines of the paint on the ceiling "I'm not perfect. You and I both know that. And nor is my body. This," He gestured to his stomach hidden underneath the duvet "This shouldn't be here. I'm a doctor, I should be one of the fittest men in Poplar, I should be able to run without running out of breath, I should be..should be.." He gave up and slumped deep into the pillows.

"You should be my husband." Shelagh stated simply, "You should be happy, and most importantly, loved. You're the best doctor Poplar has and will ever see. You're focused, admired and good looking" She chuckled softly, and carefully slid her body closer to his to hold his hand again. "No one is asking for anything other than for you to look after yourself. A little weight gain is perfectly normal at your age."

He went to argue the point but she interrupted him "It is normal Patrick, and it's nothing to be concerned about, you know that. Besides, I've grown rather fond of you and I believe that your stomach is a part of your body, right?"

Patrick noticed a change in her, but he always did when she tried to cheer him up or distract him. Their joined hands moved to the layer of bedding across his body.

"I love you Patrick. I love _all_ of you." She placed a simple kiss on his lips and pulled back, her eyes glittering in the faint light of the room from the bedside lamp.

"I love you too Shelagh". Slowly he pulled the duvet down and reached across for her to curl up into his side, then bringing it back up to cover them.

Tentatively she reached across his body to hold him close to her, she heard him take a breath and then relax, placing a kiss to her crown.


End file.
